


Last of the Great Lovers

by Sapphylicious



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: I hurt Jaejoong the most only because I love him the most, Multi, married!Yunho angst, pre-lawsuit au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphylicious/pseuds/Sapphylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaejoong makes sure to get flat-out, knock-down, piss-ass drunk on New Year's, but he still remembers with cruel and ironic clarity the day Yunho got married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last of the Great Lovers

Jaejoong makes sure to get flat-out, knock-down, piss-ass drunk on New Year's, but he still remembers with cruel and ironic clarity the day Yunho got married. It pervades his dreams in soft, lush colors, an airbrushed memory like a photograph on a magazine page, but without the juvenile gratification of taking the glossy page in hand and crumpling it up, tearing it apart, piling the shreds and setting them aflame.

He has a picture from the wedding, whole and untouched, of the five of them with Yunho in the center. That had been a little weird, mixing up their usual line, but weird or not, awkward or not, bitter or not, they're all smiling in the picture. Jaejoong remembers smiling hard enough to hurt. He remembers giving his speech—somewhat—most of it playing off of cracks from Yoochun and Junsu and Changmin. He remembers staying to the end, clasping Yunho's warm hand and then there was the solid press of their bodies, his chin on Yunho's shoulder inhaling his cologne and underlying scent, and the wisps of hair tickling Jaejoong's cheek, and Yunho saying hesitantly in his ear, "Call me, all right?"

Jaejoong remembers nodding and sending Yunho away, the handsome husband and his beautiful, blushing wife. He remembers putting that call off because it was too soon, far too soon, and he put it off, and put it off, and put off. And he's still putting it off.

Until he wakes up in the groggy morning with his head splitting in two and the taste of something that died in his mouth, the jangle of his ring tone too loud and too far to reach. Jaejoong flings his arm out, smacks it against the coffee table, and grasps for the phone. He stretches across the floor until he reaches it, and he presses a button to cease the noise that is driving unnecessary nails into his skull. Habit or dying instinct must have seized control, though, and instead of ending the call he winds up answering it.

_Fuck,_ is Jaejoong's only coherent thought during the small beat of static silence that follows.

Then, warily, a greeting: "Jaejoong?"

"Fuck," Jaejoong says into the floor.

"Sorry," Yunho's voice says through the receiver, and it sounds like glass, transparent and breakable. "Is this a bad time?"

He laughs despite the claws of pain that dig into his head as a result. "I have the mother of all hangovers," he explains truthfully. It's the only thing he can possibly say right now; there are no words for the rest.

"I'm sorry," Yunho repeats, and the words break part and shift together in Jaejoong's kaleidoscope conscience. They make sense and they don't.

Jaejoong closes his eyes and tries to envelope himself in a soothing darkness, but the light from the window is bright and searing against his eyelids. He lies there, dried out, clutching his phone to his ear. "Yunho," he says, the name crawling its way out from his parched throat.

Static, maybe a breath, and then quietly: "Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a Happy New Year."

"Oh, yeah. Great year so far."

There's a brief, knowing laugh on the other end. "It'll get better."

Jaejoong wonders about that.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you alone. Take care of yourself."

"Yunho." Jaejoong's lips part and his tongue feels dry. "Happy New Year."

Yunho sounds like cool relief when he says, "Thanks. You know, we should—if you want to—catch up sometime. I think I'd like that. Call me, will you?"

Jaejoong makes a noncommittal noise, is acutely aware of the uncertain pause on Yunho's end, and then hears the faint click of the call being ended. Yunho wants them to catch up, he'd like that, and he wants Jaejoong to call. Like old times. Just like that, and Jaejoong—

He lets the phone clatter to the floor and presses the heels of his palms over his eyes, dark and quiet, and the old—but never gone—feeling comes flooding back.

#

Jaejoong can tell anyone the exact moment he knew it would be over, a subtle but key scene in the story of his life. He can recount the lines, the set, and the actions as easily as any memorized script (or easier than a script; he's never been very good with those).

_It's a night like any other night, and the cityscape of Seoul is much the same. Jaejoong can't remember it changing. He's up waiting, he promises himself to wait fifteen—maybe five—more minutes before he starts with the 'where are you/when are you getting back?' texts. Yunho complains about the nagging but he loves the attention._

_An approximate four-and-a-half minutes later, the door finally opens and Jaejoong nearly propels Yunho back out again with the momentum of his body._

_"How was it? How are your parents? Was the restaurant as good as everyone says?"_

_Yunho puts both hands on Jaejoong's shoulders and shuffles them back inside. "The restaurant was good, they're fine, and it was...weird." The last answer is accompanied by a peculiar little laugh, too high-pitched to be normal._

_Jaejoong cocks his head. "Weird? What, did Jihye's husband offend you by breathing?"_

_"Um," Yunho says uncomfortably, and that small noise alone makes Jaejoong's worry manifest itself._

_"Did something happen?"_

_"There's someone my parents want me to meet," he confesses at last._

_"Someone," Jaejoong repeats, not quite a question, but he still gets an answer._

_"I'm...having lunch with her on Tuesday." Yunho's shoulders are the slightest bit hunched, not with shame, but with apology._

_The worst part is that Jaejoong can't claim he's completely surprised. The only surprise is that the distant, vague 'someday' has all of a sudden become concretely 'today.'_  
A wife. Kids. A family to provide for, to surround himself with—Jaejoong couldn't give him that, not anymore with TVXQ only a monument of the past.

He should leave it alone, but Jaejoong has never been good at keeping his roaming hands where they belong.

"Wait," he says into his phone, breaking the flow of conversation with his current boyfriend. "Actually, I can't on Friday. I have plans."

"All of a sudden?"

"I'm meeting with someone."

"Huh. Okay then, some other time."

It's a relaxed response to such a cagey excuse. Yunho would have been jealous, or just playful, acting hurt and paranoid over what he'd say was Jaejoong's wild affair with Yoochun or Hyunjoong or whoever he was going shopping or drinking with at the time. It had always been safe to tease, both of them knowing, then, that Jaejoong wouldn't be the one to leave.

He breathes in, and out, and wills his fingers to move over his phone, pulling up the contacts list and finding the number that's been saved since New Year's, a month ago.

#

Jaejoong makes sure to arrive at the bar extra early so he can have a drink before Yunho shows up, also early, and they stare at one another for a moment of dumb silence as if their meeting hadn't been arranged beforehand.

"You're early," Jaejoong finally states what is safe. "Sit and have a drink. It's fucking freezing out today."

"I can't believe you got here first," Yunho says as if it had been a competition. Neither of them move to hug or even clasp hands in welcome, but Jaejoong can feel the cold from outside emanating off Yunho as he sheds his coat in the much warmer bar.

"So..." Jaejoong lets the word dangle, waiting for Yunho to take up the slack.

"Can I have a cigarette?" Yunho asks unexpectedly, jolting Jaejoong from his automatic reach for the pack.

"But you quit _ages_ ago." He pauses with his hand curled around the crinkled paperboard in his pocket, but withdraws it anyway. Who's he to say anything about bad habits?

"Things are different now. Thanks," he says, and Jaejoong lights it for him with a familiarity he is surprised to find he still has.

Despite the 'catching up' objective, they talk very little about themselves. It's easier to start with others, establishing the common ground and remaining comfortably in that range.

"Have you heard from Changmin?"

"Yeah, just the other day I got a postcard from—"

"London, right?"

"Do you think he'll come back delightfully British?"

Yunho makes a choking sound that ends in snickers. "Has Changmin ever been delightfully _anything?_ "

"Delightfully evil, sure." Jaejoong shrugs and thinks some more. "Maybe delightfully cute before Junsu stole it from him."

"I heard Junsu's been working on a new album."

"You heard? He hasn't told you?"

"I've...been kind of busy lately."

Jaejoong doesn't ask with what. He wonders if he should tell Yunho that Junsu and Yoochun persuaded him (somehow, he has the sneaking suspicion that right before he caved Yoochun was going to resort to blackmail) to be featured on one of the songs. It hasn't been announced yet.

"Yoochun's excited for it," he says instead. "He composed about half of the songs, and the only reason it's half is because Junsu insisted some of the songs need to be happy."

Yunho laughs, the sound of it warm and unfettered. "Some things don't change, I guess."

"Some things," Jaejoong echoes under his breath, too low to be heard.

Yunho never mentions his wife or the baby, doesn't mention the shower that Jaejoong knows is next month. But Yunho has always wanted to be a father.

#

"Just sign the contract, okay?" Jaejoong tells Junsu over the phone. "If you do, I'll cook a nice, big dinner tonight and everybody can congratulate you."

"Bribery, hyung?"

"Should I put Changmin on so he can browbeat you into it? Or leader-sshi could order you to sign."

"Yunho can't order me to do anything anymore," Junsu points out with a noticeable lack of smugness.

"I'm passing the phone," Jaejoong announces, receiving only a token protest as he snags a convenient Yoochun. "It's Junsu, tell him he's being stupid."

"Ask me to do something _difficult_ next time," Yoochun says, accepting the task with a grin.

It's been almost a year since TVXQ's disbandment, and the past several months have been spent in solidarity. Not quite a mourning period, but an extended break, and—a settling of sorts. Gathering before the disperse. 

"Well, now that the kids are taken care of..." Jaejoong jokes some time later, leaning on the rail of the balcony with a cigarette balanced between his fingers. The sun has almost finished dipping below the skyline and taking its peach glow warmth with it.

"Think you'll be lonely?" Yunho stands by his side, their arms touching.

"Yes," Jaejoong answers, then gives Yunho a sidelong look. "Don't tell me you thought for a second I'd say no."

He chuckles and leans against Jaejoong, his weight solid and comfortable, knuckles brushing over the back of Jaejoong's hand. "No, I'm just saying... I will be, too."

Jaejoong stares at him some more, then scoffs. "It's a good thing I don't love you for your brain."

"Hey."

"Fine, your brain is sexy, too."

"Thank you."

Smiling, Jaejoong winds his arm back and around Yunho's waist, curling his fingers in a belt loop.

"So I was thinking," Yunho begins.

"Uh-oh," Jaejoong can't help but mutter, grinning at the look he receives for it.

"On second thought, maybe I won't ask if you want to live together."

"Wait, what?" He stubs out his cigarette and turns to face Yunho straight.

Yunho meets his startled, searching gaze with the same expression he had when proposing to the group, "Let's stay together for a while," after TVXQ's contract ended for good.

"The two of us?" Jaejoong has to ask.

"Well, if you don't want to—Ow!" Yunho rubs his arm and his pout is more wounded than his flesh. "But you can't use me as your new Soul Fighter. I don't want in on that club."

"Like Changmin would even let me recruit new members, the possessive brat. But seriously? Is that really okay?"

"Of course. I want to."

"For now." And Yunho just looks so sad and hurt by the comment that Jaejoong immediately regrets it. "Sorry. It's just after everything and people doing different stuff..."

"I understand. That's actually kind of why I..."

"Yeah," Jaejoong agrees, and slowly, bravely, he starts to smile. "Okay, yeah."

#

"Nnngh, what?" Jaejoong mumbles into his cell, scrubbing his hand over his sleep-worn face. He's fuzzily aware of his boyfriend snoring lightly beside him.

"You didn't tell me you were singing again!"

"Yunho?" In a split second Jaejoong is shocked fully awake.

"I had to hear the news from my _wife_ ," Yunho continues in a tone that could be either teasing or serious, Jaejoong is too busy reeling to tell. The conversation and situation feels so very wrong.

"Surprise," he mutters more to himself than to Yunho, hurriedly slipping out of bed before his companion wakes up. Closing the door behind him, he explains, "It's just for one of Junsu's songs. He asked—no, pleaded. And Yoochun threatened. I had no choice."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"I didn't want to keep singing." _Alone_ , he refrains from adding, as well as, _you know that._

"Not even once? With Junsu, or any of us?"

Jaejoong raises a hand to his face and rubs over the crease forming in his brow. "That's different. Is this the only reason you called? It's early."

"It's almost noon."

"Well, I'm naked."

Pause.

"You— Why are you naked?"

"I was sleeping!"

"O-oh, you still do that?"

"Why would my sleeping habits change?"

"No reason, I guess, I just— You know, never mind. I'm sorry for waking you, goodbye."

Jaejoong pulls the phone away from his ear and stares down at it, face flushed. "I hate you," he says to it with feeling in his white-knuckled grip.

#

Two weeks, and one remarkably uncomfortable coffee date—not date, get-together?—later, Jaejoong decides he can't do this. He can't go in with half-baked notions to steal Yunho away when he knows Yunho wouldn't ever leave his wife because he loves her, damn it, and they're having a _baby_ , a girl he's heard, like Yunho always wanted. But he can't just meet up every once in a while for a friendly chat, not when he knows Yunho's been thinking of him naked and giving him these tempted glances like he could possibly, maybe sleep with Jaejoong on the side. Jaejoong wouldn't flatter himself in this case, but he's sure of how it would end up if he stopped Yunho before they parted ways, tugged on his coat lapels and kissed him like they both remembered.

And he's sure of how Yunho would just about die from the guilt, and Jaejoong can't do it. He can't.

So he doesn't pick up Yunho's next call, and he breaks things off with his boyfriend because that's not doing him any good either, and he marks down on his calendar the day he's been persuaded and quasi-threatened to perform on stage alongside Junsu for the first time in years.

#

"I can't believe you're getting stage jitters after all this time."

Jaejoong punches Yoochun in the arm, and he has to admit Yoochun is a pale substitute for Changmin, who would have at least hit him back. "Yeah, with an emphasis on the time. Jesus, it's been a while, all right?"

"Okay, okay. But I mean, it's like riding a bike."

"What, singing? Singing is nothing like riding a bike, Yoochun, I think you need to see a special doctor."

"I've been telling him that for years!" Junsu says from where he's letting a stylist touch up his hair.

"Hyung, you'll do fine. Better than Junsu anyway."

"I heard that!"

"Just a sec," Yoochun says as he takes a call.

All of a sudden there's a stylist in Jaejoong's personal space, tugging at his clothes and arranging the locks of his hair. He takes a deep breath and lets himself go along with the bustle of preparation, recalling the rhythm from years of practice. More years than the ones spent out of practice.

"It's for you," Yoochun informs, handing him the phone.

"Is it Changmin?" 

But the voice that answers, "Jaejoong," is definitely not Changmin all the way from London.

"Yunho," he says in surprise, unsure of what to follow it with. An apology? A brush off?

"I just wanted to wish you good luck. Enjoy yourself, all right?"

"Sure... Thanks."

Jaejoong is saved from having to say anything else when Yoochun sweeps the phone back up. "Hey, so are you— Oh, I see. Any day now, huh? Let us know when it happens, man."

_Any day now._

"Yunho says he can't make it. ...Hyung?"

"Nothing. It's fine."

#

"Bet you thought you'd never hear that again." Yoochun meets him with suspiciously misty eyes as Jaejoong exits from the stage, ears filled with the devoted chanting of fans.

"They were cheering for Dong Bang Shin Ki," Jaejoong says in wonderment, heart lodged somewhere in his throat.

"We still are, you know. Whether it's one or two or all five of us."

"Right," Jaejoong concedes with a small smile. He picks up his phone from the table and checks it, finding a missed call from Changmin. Before he can press a button it rings in his hand. "Hello?" he answers uncertainly.

"Jaejoong," Yunho says in a rush. "Sorry to bother you, but can you..."

"What?" Jaejoong asks, listening while his eyes go wide. " _What?_ "

"What is it?" Yoochun badgers him from the side. "Something happen?"

"I ca—" _I can't. I can._ "What hospital? All right, I'm coming."

#

Jaejoong approaches the man sitting on a bench in the hallway. "Yunho," he says, and that's all he can get out before he's enveloped in a tight hug. He raises his arms in turn and slowly slides his hands up over Yunho's back, flat shoulder blades under his palms. "Hey," he murmurs. "Is everything okay? You kind of sounded like you were freaking out."

"They're fine," Yunho says into Jaejoong's shoulder, face pressing into the crook of his neck. "Oh my God. Oh my God, Jaejoong, I'm a father."

"A real one this time." The joke is a joke, clean of resentment, and Yunho laughs a little.

"I guess I already have practice."

"Not with newborns. Toddlers, maybe, but not infants."

When a nurse comes for Yunho, Jaejoong doesn't even get the opportunity to hesitate because Yunho takes him by the hand and leads him to the room.

Yunho's wife is pale and frail-looking in the bed, but her expression glows when she looks up from the tiny bundle in her arms. Jaejoong feels frozen in the doorway, Yunho's hand slipping from his without resistance as he goes to the woman's side.

"Jaejoong," she greets with a tired, but no less happy smile. "Thank you for coming."

"Congratulations," he remembers to say, feeling weird staring at the newborn being carefully passed to the father. He's never seen a look quite like that before on Yunho's face.

"Jaejoong," Yunho calls to him. "Come here."

"I think I should—"

"Come on over here."

Cautiously, step by step, he finds himself near the bed looking down at the scrunched-up face that peeks out of the blanket.

"Do you want to hold her?"

"Oh, no," he protests immediately, seized by sudden fright. What if he hurts her? By accident, or just from the odd, painful blend of emotions that must be bleeding out from him. "You know how clumsy I am, I couldn't—"

"Hold out your arms."

_"Yunho,"_ he wants to say, pleadingly if he must, but he bites his tongue in front of the mother and opens his arms.

Warmth is the first thing that registers when a slight weight is shifted towards him, the softness of the blanket that he spreads his fingers over, and the very, very small signs of breathing he can feel in his absolute stillness.

"What's her name?" he asks, searching without really intending to do so for a resemblance to Yunho in the little pink features.

"Guess," Yunho says with a grin in his voice.

"You didn't really..." Jaejoong glances up and finds Yunho looking sheepishly pleased. Returning his gaze to the baby in his arms, he says tentatively, "Hi, Jiyool."

Jiyool's eyes squint up at him, and then she opens her tiny mouth and lets loose an impressive, screaming cry. Panicking, Jaejoong passes her back to Yunho, who also panics and passes her back to her mother.

#

"Congratulations," Jaejoong says again when they're out in the hall, and he means the sentiment with a knowing certainty this time.

"Thanks." Yunho ducks his head, and the grin's he's been constantly wearing lessens to a softer degree. "Thank you for coming."

"No problem, it was nothing. I'll see you later." He turns and looks down the long hallway, conscious of the steps he takes away from Yunho.

"Jaejoong." Step, step, and step from behind him. "I know it was sudden, tonight, but I needed you. I need you."

Yunho's arms come around him, strong across his chest, and Jaejoong feels Yunho's cheek against his head, nose in his hair. He lets his lashes hang low, not enough to shut his eyes, but enough to blur the world in front of him. Yunho has a wife and an infant girl waiting for him, always, but he still reaches out and says to Jaejoong:

_"call me, all right?"_

_"come here."_

_"i need you."_

_("...want to live together")_  
Jaejoong lifts his hand and puts it overtop Yunho's wrist, thumb brushing over the protrusion of bone, fingers making a circle and meeting, feather light, over the thin layer of skin protecting the veins.

"Okay. I'm here."


End file.
